


Wait for Dawn

by findingkairos



Series: and we'll be gone come morning [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: ...kind of, Alternate Universe, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, for now, kind of fix-it, on a bit of a hiatus, slow diversion from canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1319605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findingkairos/pseuds/findingkairos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in Katekyo isn't all that it's cracked up to be, and it doesn't get any better from here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Katekyo Hitman Reborn, Amano Akira does.
> 
> General Warnings: AU, OC-insert and mostly OC-centric, canon character expansion, headcanon galore, violence, language.
> 
> Author's Notes: There are better fics than this, such as [My Heavenly Judgement](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6458280/1/My-Heavenly-Judgement) by [colbub](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2020316/colbub) and [The Truth of the Sky](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8923947/1/The-Truth-of-the-Sky) by [LeoInuyuka](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/3115759/LeoInuyuka) (both on FF.net). They are what inspired **Wait for Dawn.** They can, and have, heavily influenced this fic. So if you find some likenesses in this, you know where they came from.
> 
> Hibari Kyouya will most likely seem a bit OOC in this, but think about it: this time, Kyouya didn't grow up alone. So keep that in mind as we progress through the story, ne?

_"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."_

_\- Robert Frost_  

(oOo)

I'm Kyouto. But I'm not. Well, not  _just_  Kyouto, anyway.

Let me explain.

Ask my parents, and they'll tell you, "Yes, that's Kyouto. She was born on May 5th, and she and her brother has potential, don't you think?" with a smirk on their faces.

And that's true. I was born Hibari Kyouto, little sister to a twin brother by two minutes, not that he really cares about who's older.

But that's the me that they know.

You see, I have memories as a girl in a different world, in a different life, with a different family and in a different situation. There, I was normal - I had two normal parents, a normal sibling, a normal school, normal friends, and generally a normal life.

And then I died.

Well, more specifically, I died in a train crash, when there was a malfunction on the route that I normally took from school back to my house. I was in the second car to hit the ground, and after the initial shock of  _why-is-the-floor-_ tilting there'd been a red-hot feeling against what seemed my spine and the next thing I knew, I was in darkness and had a feeling of what seemed like weightlessness.

(Right now, I assume that was "death," but back at the time I was still trying to comprehend what was going on. I was existing in what seemed a literal black hole, and I just couldn't see _why._ )

An indeterminable amount of time passed while I tried to get my thoughts together, and then, even before I fully understood what was happening, I was being slammed into  _something,_  and all of a sudden a part of me was screaming bloody murder.

I still don't know what exactly happened. But after some debate - okay, not some but  _a lot_  of debate - I'll say that I was reincarnated, even though everything around me seems like a dream or something that my shattered or drugged-out mind cooked up - because what I do  _feels_ real, so if this isn't, then I've lost nothing.

Why am I so tentatively believing in reincarnation when normally I would be yelling how it's utterly  _impossible_? Well, that's because I'm in a world that I  _know_  I've seen before. One with characters that I've read about in books and watched on the television. Katekyo Hitman Reborn, to be exact. And I'm sister to one of the characters.

To Hibari Kyouya.

Yeah. Not exactly what I was expecting after I died, but hey, you take what you get. Even if what you get is currently life with a moody, wailing brother with an incredibly short temper.

Sigh.

(I mean, I followed the manga and the anime, yeah, but I didn't go entirely fangirl over it. And unlike some otakus, I didn't fangirl over Hibari, either. It helped that I thought the prefect was slightly... off-kilter.)

I'm not sure if this world is a step up or a step down - I mean, the some of the people I'll grow up with (namely Hibari, Kusakabe, Tsuna, and the others) will eventually join the mafia. The friggin'  _mafia_. That was  _illegal._  And horrifyingly life-threatening.

(Yes, I'll admit to kind of  _like_  adrenaline, but I've already  _died_  once, and I did  _not_  like the idea of getting myself in illegal businesses and deliberately in the  _friggin'. Mafia. No way in hell._

_...Why was I even here in the first place?!_ )

In my world - or my _old_  world now, I guess - I'd always been relatively safe, in a good neighborhood and community. I'd had a good education by social standards and a relatively bright future.

But I was no one special. I had a little brother, a mom and a dad, and friends. I wasn't the president's daughter or a CEO's niece or anything like that. I was plain, ordinary, and no one noticeable. Teachers often actually skipped me during headcounts. Which is actually still a mystery to me in how they did that.

So 'confused' was a mild word in describing what I felt when I found out I was in the Katekyo world. I wasn't distinguished in any way, really. No good grades, no extreme amounts of either good or bad karma, nothing. So maybe some higher being up there messed up, or had a weird sense of humor. Maybe I just wasn't important enough to be noticed when I slipped through the gaps in the cosmos instead of going wherever I was supposed to go.

I like that explanation the best, even though that would mean that this second chance at life was merely an accident, and yes,  _that ordinary_. At least it meant that this new life doesn't have any strings attached.

Being born again... It was a terrifying feeling, not being able to see or hear or say anything. That level of loss of control was something I don't want to feel again. Ever.

The next few days, weeks, and months were spent in a warm room with another presence beside me, who occasionally stole the blankets and wailed on and off. I didn't know what to make of it, so I let it take my blankets and tried to ignore the ringing in my ear, not that I could really hear anything - my hearing was horribly undeveloped back then. There had also been blurs of color that came and went, doing things that I don't really remember about, and was the only indication of time passing for me in those days.

Six months later my vision and hearing finally cleared and I started to pick up the language. I'd gotten over my  _what-the-hell-is-happening_  phase and had calmed down, because there was literally nothing I could do by myself - I was literally a baby. But with my newly-(re)found hearing, I had something to do, and I could recognize the language, if only hazily. It was foreign, and the language barrier was frustrating, because  _I wanted to know where I was_ , damnit.

I think I understand why toddlers throw their infamous temper tantrums better now. There was no other way to express frustration in a baby's body, so wailing and crying it was.

A bit more time passed, and I learned new things, like how those blurs of color in the early days had been my parents, and although they did everything they should have done - give food, warmth, a place to rest... they didn't show normal parental love. Affection, yes, but it wasn't really something they should have really given to a child.

At least I now understood why Kyouya was odd, and not in a good way - his parents hadn't really supported him when love as crucial, and he suffered for it. Perhaps I'm biased; they may have simply not known how to show love properly to a child, as Kyouya and I were their first children, and then after the Hibari family's apparently long history of genii they treated him -  _and me_ , a selfish part of me added - like a mini adult. But being treated like this right after the trauma of  _dying,_  being born again without any understanding of  _why,_  and then having an entire six months to freak out about it didn't really better my opinion of them. Although most would be glad that at least they weren't being treated like a  _child_ , in the Hibari family it was more the equivalent of getting a new job without any prior directions what-so-ever and just being expected to perform the best.

...Needless to say, my apathy for them grew. But I still refused to believe that I was in Katekyo, because  _damnit_ , ordinary people did  _not_  just up and be  _reborn_  into a  _fictitious universe_!

But however insane it was, there was proof, and Kyouya and my first birthday came and went before the evidence mounted to such heights that I had to accept where I was. Anything else familiar to Amano's universe had been diligently ignored, but this just shattered my attempts to convince myself otherwise.

I'd been in the many living rooms, the one where our ancestor's portraits were, having a history lecture with my new brother. My new parents were from a prominent family, so these paintings and the people's histories had been important. They weren't your usual ancestors; no, our parents didn't even try to let it down gently that our family had members on both sides of the law. There had been mafia men, police men, country intelligence department heads, old lords and sometimes even kings, and ninjas had been implied as well, although no records were kept for obvious reasons. It was quite a mess, and the absolute nightmare of anyone trying to trace back our ancestry.

Mother had been pointing out some of the ones in the parlor, telling us about the person's history as if we could understand her - well, I guess she thought we could, because we had shown signs of that possibility; I because I was an older mind in a younger body and Kyouya because although he was technically a baby he was still a  _Hibari_ , and their standards are  _high,_  enough said - and she had pointed out a particular man dressed in red. He looked a bit like what Kyouya would be in fifteen-or-so years, actually, but he was smiling. Without bloodlust; quite a big difference.

"And this is Fon," she had said, her voice light but there was a slight curl in her lip as if she was disgusted with something. "He's your granduncle, from your father's side."

Wait a minute.

...

...

...

... _What?_

I had gazed up at her, eyes wide while Kyouya, next to me, stared at the portrait with an unreadable expression. "What does he do?" I asked. There was a sense of dread in the bottom of my stomach. The name matched up, what little the author had implied of Fon and Hibari's relation matched, and if she answered the way that I thought she would...

Mother had looked at me for a minute, then minutely sighed. She turned her eyes back to the painting. "He worked for the Chinese Triads."

I blinked, not missing the use of past tense. Then it sank in.

Great. I was officially in the Katekyo Hitman Reborn world. And related to the Hibari family. More importantly, related to apparently  _Hibari Kyouya_  and  _Fon, the Storm Arcobaleno._ Who were either currently or would be neck-deep in the Mafia. Not to mention  _huge_  trouble-magnets. Like,  _world-and-space-time-endangering_  huge. Also involving possible aliens from outer space, talking babies,  _time traveling_ , and overall  _insanity._

_Oh crap._  I can  _see_  the future headaches, damnit.

(oOo)

We started training after our second birthday passed, old enough to talk in blocky and rough, but complete, sentences and to start learning the Japanese language.

(Most people, and me, before this whole being-reborn-thing, would  _not_  have expected two-year-olds to be able to  _learn a language,_  but the Hibaris were  _insane._  Sometimes I wondered how they grew up normally.

...Then I realize what I have now dubbed as Canon!Kyouya - because my newly acknowledged brother would  _not_  turn out like him, damnit! - didn't, and was quite prone to what I have also dubbed as battle-hunger. Sigh.)

Kyouya and I picked up the spoken Japanese quite easily, as children are wont to do. I was also thankful that I didn't have an accent, as that would have been difficult to explain.

But the written Japanese was much harder.

I did study Japanese at one time, and although I will not admit to having been any good at it, I could at least tell apart written English and written Japanese. And within written Japanese had been a whole new system of symbols that connected to sounds and therefore words.

Not to mention that Hiragana, Katakana, and Kanji were all completely different systems of written and spoken Japanese. The way that these systems were set up and used was also radically different from the English one. I would often spend a good few hours with a page of text, trying to learn this admittedly complicated language.

I have no doubt I came off as an abnormal, if not oddly deliberate, child; but as most members of the Hibari family were genii anyway, my parents didn't particularly seem suspicious of me. Although Kyouya himself had been struggling with written Japanese, especially Kanji - what two-turning-three-year-old child wouldn't? - he had taken to tonfa quite easily, and was already frightening with the single-mindedness he would have for fighting, even at this age.

I, myself, had taken a weapon as well. Not only had our parents pushed us to choose one, if I were to truly keep up with Kyouya later I would have to train also. The fact that it was a good stress-reliever for my language frustration didn't hurt.

(I probably went overboard with those first few targets, but I just  _couldn't figure it out,_  and it had  _driven me nuts._  I think I can be allowed a little bashing of inanimate objects, no?)

It was awkward, that first year when I had been able to start truly communicating with my brother. He would be aloof, preferring not to get involved in anything, but he had still been a child. And a child needed companionship, no matter what they said. I tried to do things with him, but he simply brushed it off or wandered away. I gave up after a while, and tried to spend time with him instead. He responded better to that, and often he ended up next to me for a quiet nap while I tried my best to read in Japanese.

He was peaceful during those times. And then he curb-stomped me later during spars. I was being beaten by a two-going-three-year-old.

Sigh. Well, this was  _Kyouya_ , so my dignity was still clinging to life. Barely. Actually, I think it's that little whimpering thing in the corner now...

(oOo)

"What should you do when confronted with a hostage?"

Kyouya thought about it for a moment, then asked Mother a question. "Is it a child hostage?"

"Yes."

This time he didn't even hesitate. "Save the child, then bite the foolish herbivore to death."

Ah, Kyouya, of course you would follow in Mother's footsteps and say that you'll eat your enemies...

And you, Mother, why did you explain the concept of strong and weak people to us with an analogy using carnivores and herbivores? Not that it hadn't been  _entertaining_  or anything, but still...

Said Mother turned to me this time. "What should you do when someone attacks your home?"

"Have a little 'talk' with them, then cast them out of town," I replied promptly. The things that growing up from day one with the Hibaris does to you... My life had spiraled into  _even more_  insanity not long after we started training - I hadn't even known that life can get  _that_  crazy - but I guess that's the price to pay for having such a crazy family. At least they have moral values. ...Kind of.

Mother nodded in satisfaction, a bit of light glinting off her teeth as she gave a predatory smile that sent a shiver down my child's spine. She was  _scary_ when she did that. "Don't forget that," she said, this time looking at both me and Kyouya. We both straightened; she had that voice when she was about to deliver a life-lesson, and they were admittedly important ones. Kind of. Well, they  _were_ , just… not conventional. Certainly not something someone would teach children our age.

But seriously. We're dealing with the  _Hibari family_  here, and all the rules seem to fly out the window with them...

"There are both herbivores and carnivores in the world, children. Most of the population are herbivores, spineless idiots that do what they're told. They give up whatever they're told to give up when confronted by something stronger. But you two - you two are Hibaris. You are  _carnivores_. Therefore you must defend what is yours.

Have no qualms about beating down those you deem weak - they are merely herbivores. However, do not forget that as a Hibari you have honor. Do not tarnish it.

Defending your home is part of that honor. Namimori is your  _home,_  children. It is your carnivore's den, the place that other carnivores fear to tread. Remember that. Protect your home. Uphold your honor, and your pride, for a Hibari is nothing without their pride.

Do not forget that."

...I understand why the Kyouya from a story so long ago defended Namimori so much now. He was encouraged by his parents to defend it, but it was also a matter of pride for him. Namimori was, and is, his home. It is a fact that those who fight for their homes and prides are likely to be much,  _much_  more aggressive than those who do not, after all.

(I had first-hand experience in that. Kyouya was  _scary_  when I took his blanket.

...Hey! That thing was  _fluffy_!)

On a more serious note, this lecture had been just one of many, of course. Most of the actual training for fighting had come from Mother and the philosophical lectures from Father, but they both had wisdom for each other's fields that often went hand-in-hand. Strength, a certain sense of honor when applying said strength, even if it was awkward and still quite violent, and loyalty - to friends, family, and other what-nots we considered and would consider important - had all been drilled into our heads as soon as we could understand them. These were all things that our parents, and to some extent the entirety of the Hibari family, followed.

So it was completely unexpected when our parents began to leave home more often and often, until they were gone completely.

(Bastards.)

(oOo)

Them being away from home so much shouldn't have hurt. But sure enough, when they left shortly after Kyouya and I turned four, it stung. Even though they had give us less love than they probably should have, I had grown attached to them.

...Looking back I suppose I should have expected it. In the numerous lessons that they gave in our early days - and who teaches family history to three-year-olds? - they emphasized that the Hibari family was one that did what it wanted, when it wanted. Its members were the same.

Take our mother and father, for example. Mother was an assassin in the mafia while Father was a department head of the intelligence agency for a country. Two opposite sides of the law, and yet they had even gotten married.

Independent, indeed.

(Insanity, 'tis thy name.)

We kept up training and learning after they left, though. I kept sparring with Kyouya to try and hone my skills and we ran outside the town together a few times every day. Some might consider this brutal for a child, but in the Hibari family it was apparently quite normal.

I had long been convinced that said family was insane. But who am I to say, since I'm a part of it now?

Kyouya withdrew into himself even more, preferring to only spar and give his occasional 'hn' instead of holding a proper conversation. Sometimes I felt that I was living with a stranger instead of my brother. It was a disturbing thought.

But thankfully, an incident pulled him out of his misery. Although it'd been handled violently, it at least set him back on track, and after said incident, he started to talk with me more. He'd also returned to that headstrong, reckless, blunt brother that I'd grown to love. Even though he got into more trouble than he was worth, really.

I was glad. And seeing those bullies getting their asses kicked by Kyouya as he returned order to the playground while saying his now-signature "I'll bite you to death" was a definite plus. High point of my day, right there.

I still don't know why he doesn't think  _I_  crowd him, though. But I think it might be the fact that I let him have his blanket now...

(oOo)

Our childhood years before Primary passed by in a routine - Kyouya and I would get up in the morning to stretch and perform our respective katas, have a light spar - or something that  _he_  considered 'light,' anyway, damn him and his unrealistic endurance - and then head inside for breakfast and a more academic education. We'd have a meal somewhere in between, and finally have a more serious training session in the backyard before bed.

I don't know how I managed to survive that, honestly, when I was often too sore to move when we ended, and teaching and learning mutually with Kyouya who was supposed to be  _the_  best fighter in Namimori by the time he was in middle school was... quite an experience.

I am proud to say that I can defend myself properly now, though. And I'd like to think that now I can outrun him if I ever need to, thank you very much. Even though he still beats me in almost every... single... spar...

Argh. He was  _scary_  with his tonfa, and he wasn't afraid to flaunt the fact that he was better than me at fighting. Not out loud, of course; he wasn't  _that_  ignorant of manners. He'd just have that condescending attitude that was significantly less with me than with others, but still there. I just tried to ignore it.

Even though we literally lived by ourselves, we managed to live without worry of what we'd eat the next day, or what we'd wear, or other monetary-related concerns as our wayward parents had left behind enough funds to properly support both of us until we died. And that wasn't counting the mutual family funds, which any Hibari in desperate need - and it truly had to be desperate for a  _Hibari_  to accept any help, even if it was from their own _family_  - could use without question.

The Hibari family was definitely wealthy, if visitors couldn't tell by our parent's, or ours, now that we kept it, enormous house.

Probably the only reason we got away with living alone, wealthy or not, was that we lived near the Namimori Shrine where most people didn't come out to anyway, not to mention all our near-by neighbors were good friends, or what the Hibari family considered 'friends.'

I smirked at the thought of the fiasco that would occur if the townspeople found out Kyouya and I were living by ourselves. They'd try to sue our parents for child abandonment, and ship us off to a foster home. Heh. Herbivores, the lot of them.

...Did I just say herbivores?

...Sigh. I guess it was inevitable. At least I managed to put it off for a couple of years.

(oOo)

Time passed, as it's wont to do. Kyouya was starting to gain a name on the streets, or playground, at least, with his iron fist for discipline even at the tender young age of six. And of course, as his sister, I was there too. Well, some of the time, as Kyouya had finally started to have his penchant for solitude. It was still quite fun, though.

Hm. A few years, or even a hazy life ago I would have said ruling with terror over fellow children was tyranny. But it killed time well. Not to mention that said children really  _did_  need disciplining.

(...This. The Hibari insanity is  _infectious,_  I tell you!)

Anyway, it wasn't long before we started primary school, and the takeover was... ridiculously easy.

I shouldn't have been surprised. Kyouya and I, him with his tonfa and me with my hanbō,  _do_  make a frightening sight, after all. In a matter of hours we had wrested control of the school from the  _very_  incompetent principal and had it under our thumbs.

Well, Kyouya did at least. I just wanted a quiet life before all the craziness that was sure to come with canon timeline. I shouldn't have expected one, though. Not with Kyouya as my brother. Who was still as reckless and did what he wanted without consulting anyone. At all.

Sigh.

People started pushing us away, if they hadn't already - classmates would start sitting farther away from us, and the unlucky ones that drew the short straw rarely talked to us. They'd have stiff backs and pretend not to see us, only speaking with us when absolutely necessary. The teachers, used to dealing with placid children, often flinched when either Kyouya or I addressed them.

My brother, I understood. He was scary enough. Me? I'm not sure why... I'm not exactly the image of terror...

(A snide voice in the back of my head reminded me about the tone of voice I'd used with one of the more... ahem...  _ignorant_  teachers and said that it was the Hibari insanity finally bleeding through. I kindly told it shut up.)

Kyouya dealt with it well for a now-seven-year-old - not that I expected anything different - and although it would have been nice to have some friends in class I was prepared for rejection. I'd been largely ignored in my other life, and in this one being one-half the disciplinary force in the town wasn't exactly the fool-proof way to gather friends.

We got a little closer though, after that, Kyouya and I. He was just a bit more open with me, a little more tolerant when I fell asleep next to him in the backyard. He still liked to be alone, but I did too; we just got a little more comfortable in each other's presences after seven years of living with each other, and then being mutually rejected by the fickle crowd. He didn't give me any special treatment, but he tolerated me enough to have tea together.

It was... nice.

(oOo)

A year after we had essentially taken over the school district, Kyouya started patrolling on the shadier streets, often just wandering instead of using an exact route. If it had been anyone else, they would have been threatened for money by now by the local gangs and yakuza.

Kyouya? They just tried to stay out of his way.

They couldn't always do that, of course, and those that did couldn't get away fast enough. Often my brother left trails of prone bodies in his wake.

Kyouya also started on his love for rules. Yes, he'd had a penchant for them even before Primary, but now he was aiming to restore order to not only the school, but the entire town. It was a lovely sight to watch, even with all the complaints that we'd get.

At least the police kept off our backs, though, as long as we kept it to bruises and broken bones; they knew what Hibaris did, and left us alone for the most part.

The more idiotic yakuza and gang members, though, were another story.

(oOo)

Kyouya was... displeased. No, let him rephrase that. He was  _furious._  He'd  _bite those herbivores to death._

He stalked out the door and ignored Kyouto who followed after him, hands in her pockets and frame relaxed in a position the complete opposite of what she was feeling. He knew that because of the dangerous glint in her eyes, the one that practically shouted  _predator_. But she didn't seem upset in the very least as she came up to his side and nudged him with a shoulder, giving him a warning look as she tilted her head at the town residents looking at him warily. Kyouya released the hold on the tonfa he'd unknowingly gripped under his jacket, muttering under his breath, and she just smiled as the herbivores sighed in relief and continued about their herbivorous business.

The Kurotaka yakuza had been taken over by a new leader recently, and apparently the new oyabun was particularly ambitious and ridiculous and  _stupid_  as men with the Kurotaka emblem had started causing damage to the north of Namimori, not to mention was harassing the civilians. That was  _definitely_  against the rules. Although most of the yakuza around the town knew not to do such  _foolish_  things by now, these ones apparently needed to be disciplined.

The worst thing that the Kurotaka had done, though, was attack the grandmother owner of a well-known tea shop. Even he and Kyouto had been there before. They knew the grandmother, and yakuza attacking her, or  _any_  elder, was... unacceptable.

Kyouya hated repeating himself, but he'd bite those herbivores to death. He didn't know why Kyouto was coming with him, but he didn't care at the moment; he had weak herbivores to take care of. Painfully.

(oOo)

Kyouya blinked. Blinked again. Then he took a hand that was  _not_  covered with...  _stickiness_  and rubbed his eyes. Kyouto seemed satisfied, because she stopped the incessant waving of her hand in his face and instead turned to the herbivore behind her.

While his sister had a  _talk_  with the yakuza, Kyouya looked around. What he saw shocked him, just a bit, even though he'd never admit it.

There was a trail of bodies from where he'd burst into the Kurotaka branch headquarters, littered on the floor in various states of wounded. Some seemed to be having trouble breathing while others had arms and legs sticking out at odd angles. That was normal. The sheer amount of red fluid staining their clothes, however, was  _not_.

Kyouya almost dropped his tonfa, but he managed to calm down just enough to at least clean the...  _blood_  off on a convenient rug before tucking them away.

Then he walked - no, he didn't  _stagger_ , damn it - over to a wall with the least amount of herbivores' bodies and leaned against it.

By this time Kyouto had finished, and was carefully picking a way over the bodies. He ignored her in favor of maintaining an even breathing. He would  _not_  show weakness. Weakness was for herbivores.

...But this...

Kyouya had lost control in that fight, because there were  _so many people_  and more specifically,  _trained yakuza_ , which meant he didn't need to hold back that much as he did over the usual herbivores. He  _knew_  that he had an unstable lack of restraint, even at his seemingly young age, but it seemed that what little control he had managed to gain over his thirst for a good fight had broken when they'd confronted the Kurotaka. He'd been careful not to fight too hard when it wasn't Kyouto he was fighting against because he  _knew_  that she could protect herself when he got too out of hand but he'd gotten too immersed in the fight and apparently almost killed some of the men. Although that usually didn't make him pause, the fact that he'd had to rely on Kyouto to stop him when he went on a blood-rage  _did_.

The last time he had done that she had gotten  _nasty_  bruises that stayed for  _three whole weeks_  and that he'd felt unexpectedly  _guilty_  for afterwards.

That confused him. What was it about Kyouto that made him feel guilty over causing her bruises? They both got bruises from their every day sparring. Yes, she was his sister, but family ties didn't matter that much in the Hibari family. As far as he knew, he and Kyouto were the only two Hibaris to have stayed together this long. Then what was it?

...Perhaps it was because it was  _his fault_  that he'd lost control when he should have been able to keep it. Even against Kyouto who had been training with him their whole life, he  _knew_  that he was better than her. He was better than  _anyone_  in Namimori at fighting, no matter what the herbivores said about his age. He was supposed to be the  _best_. He wasn't supposed to make a mistake, no matter how small it was. He was supposed  _restrain_  himself, he was supposed to  _discipline_  herbivores, not  _kill_  them.

(Because unknown to him, it had become a pride thing, being able to assert dominance over herbivores without killing them. Being able to uphold the rules and the laws. A pride thing that he upheld... Except for this time.)

So the bruises that day, and the new ones that he'd caught a glimpse of on her forearms before she'd covered them up with her jacket that he  _knew_  weren't there before, meant that he had  _failed._

(oOo)

Kyouya was unexpectedly quiet after the Kurotaka incident, and a whole two weeks went by before I managed to get an answer out of him.

He was guilty over losing his  _temper._

This... was something I hadn't prepared for. I'd been preparing for fights, and grudges, and all-out death matches in the form of the more idiotic yakuza and then the Mafia, but I hadn't been preparing for guilt. And I certainly didn't know how to take care of bruised _pride_.

Kyouya was prideful, very much so, even at our age. That could be a problem in the future, but for now, I needed to fix it.

(Damn that Hibari pride.

...Well, I really shouldn't be talking. Pot, meet kettle, much?)

I finally brought it up one afternoon.

"It's not your fault," I started conversationally as I dodged a tonfa aimed at my head.

To anyone else, Kyouya wouldn't have known what I was talking about, but after nine years of living with my brother I noticed the tell-tale tightening of his fingers on his tonfa. He didn't say anything as I swished my hanbō in a feint towards his side, then snapped it around to hit his wrist.

"Everyone loses their temper sometimes, Kyouya," I continued, pulling my short staff back when my brother made a move to flip it up out of my hands. That move was  _old;_  it didn't work on me anymore, and he knew it. He was more distracted by this than I thought.

Holding my hanbō with my right hand while using my left forearm to guard, I smiled with what I hoped Kyouya'd take as humor at him. "You know  _I_  lose my temper every other week." He was seemingly not paying attention to what I was saying, but I knew that thoughtful look in his eyes. I left him to his thoughts as we continued the spar; too much talking and I'd just end up flat on my back. Again.

This time I managed to win, tapping the side of my brother's head with the end of my hanbō before he did the same with one of his tonfa. He made a face in annoyance before straightening. I did as well before we bowed to each other and officially ended the spar. Then we made our way to the back door, heading back inside for the towels and water bottles I'd set out earlier.

Our respective showers later, Kyouya didn't say a word as we settled down for a cup of tea, but his hand was clenching the cup tightly. I was suddenly glad that I'd used the everyday set this time and not one of the heirloom china because it looked like he was going to break it if he wasn't careful. Maybe even if he  _was_.

My brother spoke up after a few long minutes of sipping tea in silence.

"...It is."

I raised an eyebrow at him. I knew what he was talking about, and I wasn't amused. "It isn't, and you know it."

That started a whole tirade - well, for him, anyway. The guy rarely talked a lot. "It  _is_.  _I_  was the one that lost my temper.  _I_  was the one who insisted on storming the herbivores' den."

There was a bitter twist to the edge of his mouth. " _I_  was the one who lost myself in the fight and didn't stop myself in time and you had to -"

I'd stopped drinking my tea by now, my cup on the low table as we stared across it at each other. He'd seen the bruises, then. I'd done my best these last weeks to hide it, but I should've known I wouldn't be able to hide them from Kyouya. He had hawks' eyes for weaknesses or injuries.

I sighed and downed the last of my tea, absently clicking my tongue at the problem. I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with a  _nine-year-old_.

...Well, this was a nine-year-old  _Kyouya_ , so that pretty much explained everything.

"Look," I said, meeting his eyes - they were full of guilt, and anger at...  _something_. I didn't know what, but bringing it up now would probably do more harm than good, so I continued. "You were angry, and you wanted to take it out on something. That's understandable. But you  _don't have to be perfect all the time,_  Kyouya. No one can ever do that. It's just not possible."

"But I  _failed_ ," Kyouya replied, but it was noticeably - slightly, but still noticeably, especially after living with him all his life - weaker. He didn't always follow the world's logic, but sometimes he needed another point of view to remind him that he was human, as much as he hated that it meant he was fallible. It was a matter of pride for him, but he needed to learn that he couldn't restrain his natural fight-hungry nature all the time.

(Fight-hunger. That and pride were the two deadliest things to the members of the Hibari family. Because Kami knew that a Hibari would only be brought down by one of our own, or by themselves.)

"It's not possible," I repeated myself, trying to fill my voice with as much conviction as possible. He was a person, a living, breathing  _person._  He had feeling, and  _damnit_ , he was my  _brother,_  and  _why hadn't I talked with him earlier?_ "We may be Hibaris, Kyouya, but you can lose your temper sometimes, you can get out of control sometimes,  _because you're human._ "

I tried to convince myself he believed me as he sighed and got up, collecting both my teacup and his and then dumping them both in the sink before heading outside. Why was I delivering a moral speech anyway? I was  _not_  good at those things.

But... if it helped Kyouya...

(Because as much as I knew  _I didn't belong here,_  a brother grows on you. Both figuratively and literally. Kyouya's taller than me right now.

But that bond... It reminded me of the one I had with Alex. I... missed that.)

A few hours later, he returned with his clothes a bit dusty, but he was in a much better mood. Some would say he'd probably just been going over that logic in his head, but I knew better to think it was just that. I had a good idea of what else he'd been up to, so I just tossed him a cleaning rag that he caught without much difficulty.

We cleaned our respective bamboo weapons in a silence that wasn't strained for the first time in two weeks.

(oOo)

After the whole Kurotaka fiasco, the local yukuza started backing down and giving back power to us as the peace-keepers, cowed by the show of power. Namimori was traditionally Hibari land anyway, so it was just us taking back what was ours.

Kurotaka proved to be more stubborn, though, and Kyouya and I made a game out of who could knock out the most of their people first. My brother was still more visibly wound up when he faced off against the Kurotaka compared to the Yamaguchi-gumi or the Momokyokai, where most of them were generally more submissive, even as he tried to reign in his bloodlust.

Kyouya never did get his nickname of 'Skylark'; I suspected it was because there were two of us now. We were both simply known as 'Hibari-san,' because Kyouya refused to let  _anyone_  call either of us by first name, and Kami protect the idiot that used an endearing suffix, too.

...Now that I think about it, even the Primary teachers didn't call us by first names. It was always 'Hibari-san,' and both my brother and I would turn around to look at the speaker, or in Kyouya's case, glare. I heard it being described as unnerving once.

"Hn," had been all he'd said when I mentioned it to him, and I remembered being impressed by his ability to express such emotion into one word.

(No, really. There was that I'm-listening "hn," the I-look-down-on-you "hn," the I'm-irritated-beyond-words "hn," and the I'm-going-to-make-you-shut-up-now "hn." All delivered with that same deadly practically Kyouya-patented glare.)

Ah, fun times, fun times. Time sure flies when you're having fun. Well, the yakuza certainly do. And we're having fun in the meantime, so does that count?

(...I've lost my sanity, haven't I? Damnit.)

(oOo)

I was walking along the streets one day, nodding politely to the shopkeepers as they waved. Surprisingly the older generation of the town liked Kyouya and I; I suspected it was because we kept the number of thugs down, even at the age of nine. Or ten, soon, because our birthday was coming up next week.

Birthdays were considered special in the Hibari household - our wayward parents even called home on birthdays. But they never gave presents. It was the same with the major holidays that other households usually celebrated - Christmas, New Year's, and even Children's Day, when Kyouya and my birthdays ironically fell on.

This year, though, I wanted to break that pattern. If our parents wouldn't get us presents, then I would get Kyouya one myself. We certainly had enough money to spare, and he was  _my damn brother._

(It was weird. The first time I'd seen Kyouya, he'd been a character, a figment of someone's imagination. And after my rebirth,  _bam!_  Now he was suddenly a person, who was still growing in the ways of the world and very susceptible to influences. But he was  _himself_  was this never-ending onion that was beginning to show its rings even at our young - or in my case, not-so-young - age. Sure, he only displayed his possessiveness and thirst for a good spar or two now, but the point remained that he had become a _person_. A person I cared for.

...I wondered when the other "characters" would become "people," too.)

It was in my thinking that I walked by one of the few martial arts schools in Namimori, and I ended up looking at the display of weapons.

An idea hit me, and I slowly started smirking, feeling myself channeling my inner sadist. I was told that it was scary when I did that, or whenever I lost my temper. I guess it  _would_  be scary to have a girl grinning madly like a Cheshire cat at you. But I couldn't help it; I'd just found the  _perfect_  birthday present -  _perfect_  and  _amazing_  and just all-around  _awesome._

Oh, and with this move, I'd fill a hole. Two birds, meet one stone.

(oOo)

Birthdays were considered special. He knew that. However, in their little home, presents on birthdays were unheard of. So Kyouya was understandably confused when Kyouto pulled out a present after their customary tea before bed.

"Happy birthday to us," she had said. Then she had drifted off to her room, leaving Kyouya with the box on the table. It was wrapped in black gift wrap - even though it was plain, it was the expensive kind, he noted - and a bit longer than his forearm.

He had had half a mind to call her back and not only tell her presents were for herbivores but also ask her why she was giving him a present when  _it was her birthday as well_  but he squashed it. He left it there, glaring at it. Then he carefully took it in both hands and opened it, because although she was his sister and he was a carnivore too she was a  _scary_  carnivore when she was angry. Like a Hibari should be.

What was in the box had surprised him. Kyouya had stared at the objects for a while, then 'hn'ed and put them back. Then he washed up and stared at her door, debating on whether or not daring to disturb her before slipping into his own room and sliding into bed. And proceeded to stare at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

The next day he'd asked her before their afternoon spar why she'd gotten him the present.

She had merely smiled and Kyouya had been annoyed, but he couldn't deny he was interested in the answer.

"You've been using old weapons for so long that I wanted to get you new ones," Kyouto said, nodding at the gift, now completely unwrapped from its box and ready-to-go.

"...Hn," had been all Kyouya had said before he brought his new weapons up. "Let's go," he had demanded.

During the resulting spar, he had seen why Kyouto had gotten him metal tonfa to replace the bamboo ones he'd been using - these had spikes and chains whipping out of the ends if he tilted and whipped them around  _just_   _right_. He couldn't stop the grin on his face from forming, even though he'd have to practice to get used to the new weight. He didn't need anyone's generosity, but because this was from Kyouto, he would let it pass.

Not to mention he quite liked these new weapons, thank you very much. And he couldn't let his sister's gift go to waste, now could he?

...Where  _did_  she get these tonfa, anyway?

...Probably the same place she got her new metal hanbō. That thing looked painful to get hit by.

(oOo)

**[Two years later / Twelve years old]**

There'd been a group, a small gang, actually, causing disorder in the south side of Namimori, and Kyouya had been angry, to say the least. They were wrecking walls, harassing civilians and generally causing chaos and crowding near the police station. Foolish herbivores. Didn't they know not to cause damage to Namimori by now?

(He ignored Kyouto who had muttered that they were young hotheads that thought they could get past them and didn't know just how much of a price they'd pay; rulebreakers were rulebreakers. It was as simple as that.)

Their need for discipline was clear, and he dragged Kyouto with him to do it, because no matter how reluctantly she went Kyouya knew that his sister  _enjoyed_  her peace and quiet and was unexpectedly sadistic to those disturbing it.

Which worked for him, because even though it meant another carnivore was sharing his prey, they could discipline the perpetrators faster. And accordingly, his nap.

He and Kyouto had appeared just as the foolish herbivores started desecrating the town, and Kyouya let himself grin as he gripped his tonfa from where he'd hidden them under his gakuran top.

"You are disturbing the peace," he said, and the foolish herbivores turned around with a fearful look on his faces. Namimori was his  _home,_  and they were  _disrespecting it._  That was  _definitely_ against the rules. And because they broke the rules...

Kyouya readied his tonfa as the gang members started backing away.

"I'll bite you to death."

(oOo)

Yawning - it was early morning, after all - I helped Kyouya drag the pitiful gang members over to the police station, where shaking officers took them off our hands.

I wasn't sure why; they were only fifteen- or sixteen-year-olds, after all... It wasn't  _that_  surprising... right?

(...Okay, maybe it was. I plead Kyouya-induced insanity.)

I yawned, moving a hand to cover my mouth as Kyouya and I stepped out of the building and back onto the streets. Kyouya had accidentally slept on me last night. He usually only did that when we were napping in the backyard, but I guess he'd been tired enough to do so. Taking out nearly twenty students because they were "crowding" near the entrance did do that to someone, after all, and the only reason Kyouya had been tired after that had been because he hadn't gotten a good night's rest the day before.

Most people didn't get why Kyouya didn't like crowding, but after living roughly a decade with him, I theorized that he just didn't like other people, or was good with them; I was the same, after all. Even at our age, the girls were annoying with their chatter on the newest this-or-that in dolls or fashion or whatever they talked about, and the boys were irritating, what with their chatter on  _sports_. Kyouya tended to stay away from them - I think it had something to do with their noise level.

I still don't know why he likes fighting so much, though.

Speaking of fighting, it looks like he's about to start one. At least it's with a gang member. And is that -

\- oh yes it is. Kyouya, you can have him, I'm going to just watch gleefully as you hit that jerk in the gut with a tonfa.

...Or I could join. It's tempting.

"I need stress relief anyway," I muttered under my breath as I slid out my hanbō.

(oOo)

Kusakabe Tetsuya's day could have been going better. Scratch that, his  _week_  could have been going better. First his mom had had a fever, which she had gotten while being outside in the cold last night waiting for her husband - he refused to call the man "father." He'd had to stay at home to keep her comfortable, and miss school to do so. Then the next day there was a pop quiz, the contents of which had been gone over the day before. The day that he'd missed school.

"Ahh, Kusakabe. There you are. Do you have our money?"

And  _there_  was the final reason why Tetsuya's day currently sucked. Well, sucked even  _more._  Nakae Hirohisa was the local gang of the town, the one that had ruled the back streets and alleyways and charged the students who needed to use them to get to school on time. Of course, what he did couldn't be done in front of the townspeople, so he and his lackeys had stuck to ganging up on younger kids behind buildings and in the dark.

At least, he  _had,_  until the Hibari twins came and "disciplined" the town, as they called it. Personally, Tetsuya was grateful to the duo, no matter how violent, scary, or virtual tyrants they were. They had stopped most of the gang's activity, but of course there were those unlucky few that were still targeted because the fifteen-year-old leader wouldn't back down without at least a seeming of a fight. Like now.

"Kusakabe-kun," Nakae almost-purred in that voice that all younger-level students who had to take the back streets had come to fear before they had started taking the front. "Don't tell me you forgot." Behind him, Nakae's minions started sneering and some even started cracking knuckles.

The thirteen-year-old gulped and tried to back away, only to find his back against the dead end. Crap. And he'd almost reached the school, too.

"I-I didn't," Tetsuya managed to stutter out while scrambling for time. "I-I'll give it t-to you a-after school. Promise!"

The former school boss seemed to consider that for a moment, in a deceptive way that was designed to put his victims at rest before he ambushed them. Accordingly, after Tetsuya unwittingly dropped his guard Nakae then smirked, shaking his head in a patronizing manner. "I know you will, Kusakabe-kun," he said, "but you said the same thing last time, remember? And you didn't. You broke a promise."

The smirk widened, revealing white teeth in that predatory smile that all experienced bullies had. "And we don't take kindly to broken promises, right, guys?" Nakae tossed the question behind him, and his gang all made various sounds of agreement.

Nakae turned around and opened his mouth to say something when a voice cut through the group. "Herbivores. Why are you crowding here?"

Tetsuya released a sigh of relief as the self-proclaimed 'discipliners' of Namimori appeared into view. The boy, Hibari Kyouya, was sporting an annoyed look on his face as he glared at the gang of bullies. His sister, Hibari Kyouto, looked like she wanted to be anywhere from here. They both wore the school uniform, but also had gakuran tops - Kyouya's was slung over his shoulders while Kyouto was wearing hers properly. All in all, they didn't look like the fighters that they were rumoured to be, but Tetsuya would take what he could get.

Nakae smiled at Kyouya. "Nothing, Hibari-san. We're just having a little  _chat_  with Kusakabe-kun here."

The girl next to her brother sniffed, then raised an eyebrow at the lead bully with a grace that no twelve-year-old should rightfully have. "A "chat"? I'm sure it's a pleasant one," she said, and Tetsuya could practically  _hear_  the sarcasm dripping off her words.

A few of the boys behind Nakae bristled, but their leader quickly hushed them down, flashing a deceptively charming smile at the Hibaris in front of him. "Yes, yes, pleasant indeed," he said, and generally had the manner of someone who didn't want to incur said Hibaris' wrath again. That was understandable, as the last time the twins had '"disciplined' his gang, they had ended up with some  _nasty_  bruises, and in some of the worse cases, broken bones - Tetsuya had seen them himself before one of the lackeys covered it, and had heard the rumors of some of Nakae's gang admitted at the hospital.

"I really hate crowding," the male Hibari suddenly said - apparently he made up his mind as he readied his tonfa in a fighting-stance, eyes narrowed at the group in front of them. "It really makes me want to bite you to death." He wheeled around, steel tonfa flashing as he dealt out punishment to the unruly. Tetsuya could only gape at the sight of a twelve-year-old beating up four others, all older than him by a good three or four years.

There was a sigh next to him, and Tetsuya jumped and turned around to see Kyouto taking out a hanbō made out of what looked like to be similar material of her brother's tonfa out from  _nowhere._ "I need stress relief anyway," she muttered almost too quietly for him to hear, and then jumped into the fight as well.

Tetsuya's jaw was hanging open by this point. Now that he had a proper look at the Hibari twins' fighting prowess, he could see why all of the school respected and feared them. They were a  _scary_ sight to see, silver metal flaring in the sunlight as they whirled with the grace that only long practice brought. Even as untrained as he was, Tetsuya could tell.

(oOo)

I sighed, absently tucking my hanbō back into the sleeves of my gakuran top - we'd started wearing them a year ago by Kyouya's insistence, or rather, _threatening_ , Kyouya-style - and although it looked rather cool slinging the jacket over the shoulders it was Kyouya's signature fashion, not mine. I was mad at myself at the way that I did that last whirl of the hanbō - it was  _sloppy_ , damn it, and were it my brother he would have taken the opening and leave a bruise on my side. I'd have to practice it later.

(A voice in the back of my head accused "damn perfectionist" but I quashed it with long-practiced ease.)

"Th-thank you," a voice stuttered from the left, and I turned my head toward where it came from. It was Kusakabe Tetsuya, and I mentally raised an eyebrow. So this was how they met, huh?

Hole filled. Moving on.

Kyouya snorted that delicate, arrogant snort of his, and Tetsuya flinched a bit. I leaned back slightly - I had a good idea of what would happen, and I wouldn't interfere. Not with this; it wasn't worth the soreness later.

My brother twirled his tonfa - he hadn't put his weapons away like I had - and then slammed one into the thirteen-year-old's gut. The boy crumpled to the ground, not expecting the sudden attack, and Kyouya turned his back on him.

"Herbivore," he sniffed, and walked past me. I hid a smile and followed after him, both of us leaving the bullies and the victim behind us. Kyouya didn't discriminate; if one did something wrong, one got a face full of tonfa. It was a simple case of rule of law, and probably the only reason the teachers didn't try to discipline  _him_. Not that they could, anyhow.

Tetsuya, who was now moaning a bit, would be able to get up - Kyouya hadn't slammed it  _that_  hard - and the gang scum were unconscious. Which was good. I was still laughing gleefully over their punishment via Kyouya.

Life... was good. Even with the crazy fighting and insanity that had seemingly become my life these days, it was good.

I smiled and looked towards the clear, blue sky as we headed home.

_(I'll live this life with no regrets. Not this time.)_


	2. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i was trying to hit 10k on this before i posted  
> i failed  
> but at least you got a chapter out of it =w=

_"Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated."_

_\- Confuscious_

(oOo)

Much to my surprise, Tetsuya had followers.

Yeah,  _followers_. Or at least, friends and friends-of-friends that were willing to listen to him. Tetsuya was, apparently, quite the leader when he wasn't being pummeled by bullies or gang members.

(I should know – I'd heard him speaking to a particularly stubborn guy and convince him that the sky wasn't blue, it was actually green, just for the giggles. He might have had debate teams fighting over him, if he'd been interested in that.)

That didn't explain, though, why so many of them would follow Kyouya, or copy Tetsuya's pompadour hairstyle. That was perplexing, and it was a question that I mulled over tea on afternoons that I found myself with just my thoughts, my brother out on patrol or business or what-not.

But like all unexplained things that I've found in this crazy universe, I should have realized my question would be answered… eventually.

(oOo)

"… _What."_

Tetsuya winced and shrank under Hibari-san's glare, his sister next to him giving him a flat look. Kami, he knew that their reactions to this part of his past would be bad, but when a Hibari asks you something,  _you do not_ not _give them an answer._

"Let me get this straight," she said, and tapped her fingers on the low table where all three of them were kneeling. He flinched at the sharp sound. "Your ' _friends_ ' know you from when you played courier to half-a-dozen small-time gangs and a small yakuza family. And you were in charge of a small group of them before they all came to you for direction after said yakuza family was wiped out not too long ago by a combination of the Momokyokai and the Kurotaka, who actually  _cooperated_ for some odd reason that I will not examine for the sake of my mental health."

Tetsuya cringed again and nodded, eyes darting nervously from brother to sister and back again. Hibari-san sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose while the other one closed his eyes and leaned back, appearing, to all of the world, to be taking a nap and letting his sister handle this.

"All right. That's an odd way to gather friends, but all right." The girl Hibari-san raised her head and looked him straight in the eye, and although Tetsuya had to try  _really, really hard_  not to flinch away from steel-grey eyes he managed it in time to hear her next words, stern and uncompromising. "…you're going to need to explain in a  _lot_  more detail, though. Convincingly."

This time, Tetsuya did flinch.

(oOo)

"You know, you  _could_  just start a Disciplinary Committee."

"...Hn."

I sighed. Kyouya and I'd been going at this for half an hour; he was complaining - or as close as he could get to complaining - about the amount of people, or as he put it,  _herbivores_ , he'd had to discipline in school. I'd expected him to be  _happy_  about having legitimate reasons to fight, but it turned out that my brother didn't like having to waste his time on disciplining useless herbivores.

...His words, not mine.

At thirteen, we were managing patrolling Namimori and rooting out the more stubborn yakuza gangs while also simultaneously keeping up with our school studies, not that we needed to stay in school - I'd already gone over all of it a lifetime ago, and Kyouya just didn't have a problem with the material. Honestly, I was guessing that if I wasn't here, Kyouya would have skipped class altogether.

...He might have. Seriously. Even though it was the last year of Primary, Kyouya would have skipped it.

Returning back to the problem, though, was that we'd started to gather lackeys, or rather,  _Kyouya_  gathered lackeys, all under Tetsuya. We'd gotten closer to the thirteen-year-old this last year, if one could consider getting beaten up less by Kyouya 'close.' My brother held him at arm's length while everyone else was ten feet away.

Me? I was closer, but not by much - we both valued our personal spaces, after all.

We still used each other as pillows, though, funnily enough. I still don't remember exactly how that ended up happening, but Kyouya makes a great pillow. I've fallen asleep on him enough times to prove it.

The first time that happened, it'd been awkward, as even though he was my brother sometimes he didn't act like it. But he'd just 'hn'ed and moved on.

The next day I'd woken up to his head on my stomach. And it just continued from there.

But if we could harness Kyouya's lackeys  _now,_  I'd get more time for reading.

I huffed and looked Kyouya in the eye. "Look. You have Tetsuya and his minions willing to do whatever you say. Why not use them to help you discipline Namimori?"

When my brother started paying more attention to me, I gave him a conspiratorial smile. "It'd be your own group. You'd get to order them around, and they wouldn't be just a waste of space."

And for the finale... "You'd get to 'bite them to death' whenever you want."

Hook, line, and sinker. The edge of Kyouya's mouth started to curl up ever-so-slightly at the idea, and I leaned back. Success.

Now,  _finally,_  I can read peacefully. Book, here I come...

(oOo)

...Or not. I sighed from my wall as Kyouya beat Tetsuya into the ground,  _again_.

"You know, Kyouya," I said idly as I twirled a pencil over my knuckles - I'd been practicing, and I could finally get it to spin once or twice before dropping it - "it's been about, what, an hour?" I checked my watch, and sure enough, it was 5:28. "Two hours since you've been drilling Tetsuya non-stop. You might want to take a break."

Tetsuya, who at first looked surprised and relieved that I'd interrupted Kyouya's hell of a training session, looked mortified that it would only be a break. My brother, though, just 'hn'ed before catching the water bottle I threw at him. Contrary to popular belief, Kyouya knew the importance of stopping and refocusing sometimes, but it didn't always mean that he'd stop when he needed to. Often I had to drag him back home when he pushed himself too hard.

Still my blunt, reckless brother. Sigh.

Tetsuya looked ready to collapse, so I forewent throwing him his towel and instead guided him back to the blanket I'd set out. The thirteen-year-old fell on it, and I smirked a bit before throwing his water bottle at his head.

Hey, never let it be said I didn't pity anyone training with Kyouya. Quite the opposite; they needed to get back up and improve to get Kyouya to  _stop_  training them, and that would only happen when my brother felt he'd beaten enough of the herbivorousness out of them.

Wait, is herbivorousness even a word?

(oOo)

Tetsuya improved over time – maybe more accurately put, over a  _lot_  of time. It was slow going, but he made progress. After that, it was relatively easy to get more support for the Committee my brother wanted. It surprisingly hadn't been  _that_  hard – most of Tetsuya's friends were more than willing to join the group for whatever reason. Kyouya never questioned their motives when they did, only tested their strength – and I'd stay off to the side, because this was  _his_  Committee to lead in the end, not mine.

I did help him train them, though, and they listened to me just as respectfully as they did Kyouya. Which was a lot. Well, that wasn't surprising, considering how much Kyouya valued manners and respect, but still, me? I was more than a bit surprised, though it wasn't unappreciated. It was just unnerving for them to bow to me whenever I passed them, because that was supposed to be for  _Kyouya._

When I mentioned it to my brother, though, he just 'hn'ed and went back to sleep. He  _did_  give me a short explanation later, though – he'd asked them to.

Of course. The Hibari name was to be respected, no matter the holder, and he'd just made sure that that rule would be upheld. Still, the core of the entire future committee, which was at least twenty people right now?

Sigh.

At least he hadn't asked them all to kowtow. That would just have been embarrassing, no matter how distantly-touching the thought was.

(oOo)

When the first week of December rolled around it was with a nasty snowstorm – sleet was literally coating the sidewalks, and most of the people living in Namimori didn't leave their homes if they didn't have to. I was perfectly content to stay home and drink tea, thank you very much, but Kyouya insisted on patrolling the town like normal.

When I mentioned the possibility of hypothermia he gave me a flat look, the one that said 'I know, but I'm going to do this anyway, and you can't stop me.' I can't argue with him when he got like that, so I simply sighed and bundled up with multiple layers beneath our usual gakuran tops, wrapping a scarf around Kyouya's neck as well as my own before we went out. Normally he hated those things, but maybe he was actually cold today – he took it with only a glare. You never knew with my brother.

(The fact that he still wore only summer layers irked me, though. But hey,  _scarf_ , and I'll have to hope that his crazy strong immune system can make up for the rest.)

There wasn't that much to discipline in the cold weather. Even the  _yakuza_  were staying inside, except those unlucky few that were sent out for whatever reason; those hightailed it out of our way when we came down the sidewalk. Mostly, the patrol was dull; the only interesting thing about it was the snow starting to come down as a powder thing instead of the thick, hard snow that it had been. Seeing that get stuck in Kyouya's hair was funny.

The glare he sent me, even more so.

(oOo)

He sneezed. Then he sniffed, and sneezed again because it was hard to keep in a sneeze.

"See?" Kyouto slid in next to him on his futon, ignoring his glare and setting down her tray on his desk. "I told you that you'd get a cold if you went out without more layers, but  _no,_  you  _had_  to go out in just your summer clothes."

Kyouya 'hn'ed at her and turned away, but grudgingly sat up when she poked his shoulder.

"Here." A cup of warm tea was placed in his hands, and as Kyouya carefully took a sip of it he could taste the green tea, as well as the added lemon and honey. He raised an eyebrow at his sister because green tea was perfectly good by itself, thank you very much, when she gave him that half-smile of hers.

She stirred a pot from the same set that the cup he held came from as she spoke. "The honey is for your throat, the lemon to temper that, and the ginseng is for the cold itself."

Kyouya sniffed. He hadn't noticed the ginseng, but that didn't stop him from emptying his cup. Kyouto waited patiently, leaned against his bedroom wall as she was, before taking the cup from his hands and refilling it. "One more cup and you can go back to your nap," she said when he gave her a  _look_ , which he sighed to and drank down in one go anyway. There was no arguing with his sister when she was in one of her  _moods_.

Said sister plucked the cup from his hands before placing it back on the tray and dragging out another quilt from his closet to throw over him on top of the two blankets he was  _already_  under. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to – Kyouya took the extra covering without complaint, and with her task done and the traditional kotatsu in the center of his room lit she slid out, closing the rice paper door behind her. Kyouya waited until he couldn't hear her footsteps in their hall before burrowing down into the warmth.

Kami, he hated being sick.

(oOo)

December 24th and 25th was a quiet affair. Our parents had failed to call home – again – and so I was at home with Kyouya, drinking tea as we watched the snow fall outside our traditional home.

Seriously, our house could be directly out of a history book. Hardwood floors, tatami mats, kotatsus, and rice paper-sliding doors were a common sight in our house. Yes, there were a few more modern additions here and there – the kitchen and the indoor training room just to name two, as well as the electricity wired to every single room – but the majority of our house was pure traditional Japanese.

(It did make sliding down the halls with socks on fun, though.)

The garden outside was a piece of art in and of itself, with a large peach tree reigning court over the bamboo trees edging the area and stone paths among the grass. There was even a rock garden off to the side, raked every-so-often by my brother and I when we needed something familiar and repetitive to do to take our minds off things.

(Not that  _he_  needed it, of course, but it was nice to think that I wasn't the only one caring for the thing.)

All in all, it was a very traditional house. And even though I missed the more modern side of things, the house grew on me, much like the way Kyouya did.

We sat in comfortable silence, watching the snow drift onto the ground and freeze icicles on the bare branches of our peach tree.

(oOo)

New Year's Eve came and went like it always did – with much fanfare and people stumbling home from bars, drunk from too much sake. Normally Kyouya and I had our hands full with just trying to keep a semblance of the normal peace, but this year, with Tetsuya and his minions helping it was much easier to get the drunks off the streets and keep the crime down to a minimum. I swear Kyouya had too much fun with those gang members we found trying to rob a clearly out-of-it man, but I shouldn't be talking – I had a lot of fun, too, surprisingly.

Normally I was the one stuck trying to get Kyouya to calm down while simultaneously trying to make sure everything else in the town didn't go wrong, but with the core of the future Disciplinary Committee doing the latter I was free to have a bit of fun.

Which… had turned into the Hibaris' version of fun along the way. But hey, at least I enjoyed myself?

(I ignored the moaning bodies in the streets as I dragged Kyouya home for our own quiet New Year's celebration over tea.)

(oOo)

The celebration of actual New Year's Day… went differently than the other years.

First was the fact that I could actually sit down and drink tea with my brother instead of being outside in the cold and chasing down every. Single. Criminal. Offender.

(I mean, usually I liked chasing small fry across town because it was exercise that I didn't have to get majorly bruised during _,_  but not on a cold day. Especially not on a day when I'd be slowed down by bystanders in the way.)

Then there was the phone call from our mother, who  _never_  calls home unless it's our birthday. What made the experience even more surreal was that after she wished us a happy New Year's she didn't immediately hang up, she passed the phone to our father.

That was new. Every time they'd ever called, it had been separately. The fact that they were with each other when they called was something I didn't want to think about, but my brother just ignored it after a single raised eyebrow at the phone, then at me.

(Whoever said that he couldn't understand the little unsaid things was an absolute idiot. He understands more than I do sometimes, and he never speaks up about it, which makes it even  _more_  scary when he actually  _does_  and it all makes  _sense._ )

And finally, there was the doorbell ringing about an hour after our parents hung up.  _No one_  visited on New Year's.  _Ever._  It's an unwritten law among Kusakabe and his minions, the town, and us.

What was even more surprising was the fact that the person at the door was a baby, wearing a red Chinese robe depicting a dragon and with a white monkey on his head.

_What._

(oOo)

Fon looked up towards the large, traditional house, a scant distance away from the Namimori Shrine. He knew perfectly well whose house this was – however, this was his first time visiting its current inhabitants. They didn't know him, and he not they, outside of the few stories circulating among the Hibari family about the twins living in this part of Japan. He'd never really had a reason to visit, Fon supposed, but then again, Chiharu-chan  _had_  slipped him an airplane ticket.

Hibari Chiharu knew perfectly well what he'd take it to mean, and so here he was on New Year's – perfect timing, if he did say so himself – and ringing the surprisingly modern doorbell to the house.

It was a few minutes before someone answered, where those few minutes were filled by Lichi's excited chatter. The monkey was visibly excited to be visiting family, distant as they were. Fon himself was curious, as well as hopeful; although with the matter of... family complications, it was a toss-up on how this meeting would go.

The gates opening drew his attention, moving inward by no other discernibly means as if inspired by some bad Western film. Smiling, Fon made his way inside, his small shoes finding the stone path leading up to the main house remarkably dry even with all of the recent sleet here in Namimori.  _Someone must have cleaned up,_  he mused, and wondered exactly who.

When he knocked on the door, a young woman – no, a girl – opened it, looking above him as if expecting someone taller. Even though he was used to it by now, that unintentional overlook made something twist in Fon's chest, but he covered for it with a casual, if amused, "Down here, miss."

To her credit the girl caught on quickly, and although there was a surprised blink of grey eyes before she opened the door further she didn't start off random bursts of "kawaii!" or even "what is a  _kid_  doing here," which were the two most common reactions. Fon hadn't expected anything less from a Hibari.

She gave him a raised eyebrow instead as he padded in and carefully left his shoes on the appropriate mat. It was very likely that they wouldn't have slippers guests in his size, although the Storm Arcobaleno was fine with that – he wore socks for a reason, and not just because of the winter weather.

"You're Hibari Kyouto, I presume?" he asked mildly, and although there was no visible reaction other than a slight tilt of the head Fon knew he had gotten it right. He was a Hibari himself, even if he was only a distant relation to the main house; he could read people just fine, thank you very much.

(oOo)

Hibari Kyouya was very, very private, as many – if not everyone – in Namimori knew. That meant that when he wanted to be left alone,  _he was left alone._

(Barring Kyouto, of course, but she was family and they lived together in the same house, so unwanted interaction sometimes unavoidable.)

But even Hibari Kyouya was not immune to courtesy to family courtesy. So when the stranger with the monkey was shown into their home by his sister, he hadn't ignored the – baby? – as he normally would have but opened a single eye instead from where he was sitting back and enjoying his tea.

"Ah, Kyouya-kun. It's good to finally meet you," the red-kimonoed  _baby_  said, and Kyouya resisted the urge to grab his tonfa at the endearing suffix.

"You're Fon," his sister said flatly next to him, ignoring the excited white monkey chattering away in her lap.

Actually, the animal looked quite soft to pet. He wouldn't mind entertaining it himself –

No. The thirteen-year-old dragged his attention back to the family-stranger sitting in his tea room, even as the now-identified "Fon" nodded to Kyouto's not-question and sipped away at the green tea that she'd provided.

Fon. Where had he heard that name before?

Younger years, warmer days. Sitting in his mother's lap not a few rooms away from where they currently were, and staring up at the portraits hung on the wall. Years of history flitted through his head as Kyouya blinked,  _remembered_ , before he glared down at the  _not-baby_  sitting down in his house, on his tatami mat and drinking his tea.

"The granduncle from Father's side," he suddenly said, and he could just  _see_  the amused smile that hid behind the teacup. Come to think of it, Kyouto felt like she was amused from where she sat next to him as well, as if the fact that he'd taken this long to recognize the name was something to laugh about.

But that didn't  _fit._  His granduncle was  _older_  than a mere  _baby,_  greater than a mere  _herbivore_  if the stories were to be believed. Why was this – thing – claiming to be something that it wasn't?

Then his twin sister (who was, on occasion, quite intuitive, although he'd never say that to her directly because  _praise was part of an herbivore's behavior_ ) said two words. Just two.

"You're Arcobaleno."

(oOo)

The girl hit the nail on the head, to borrow a Western phrase, and Fon let himself sigh as he carefully put down the family heirloom teacup on the low table before them all. Her brother beside her looked as if he were annoyed, although at what he couldn't tell yet; but no matter.

He had to address the flat look that Hibari Kyouto was giving her. "Yes. I am an Arcobaleno. The Storm, in fact – I trust you know about Flames?" He'd be extremely surprised if they didn't.

Although Hibari Kyouya started glaring at him again, the teacup firmly in his hands, Kyouto gave a small nod.

"Then you are not surprised at my branch of the Hibari Clan's choice to keep my status quiet from the rest of the extended family."

Another nod from the short-haired girl, and said Arcobaleno sighed. If he weren't who he was, he would scrub a hand over his face in frustration, but he was Fon, and Fon did not do that. So he settled for humming slightly under his breath instead.

The abrupt rise from his grandnephew, Kyouya, drew his attention though. Especially when the boy declared that he would be taking his nap now, Fon was free to leave whenever and in the next moment was sweeping out of the room with all the pride of an uncontested king.

"He does that," Kyouto said when Fon gave her a questioning glance. But that soon turned into a glare of her own as well, and he had to stifle any marks of surprise at the resemblance of hers to Chiharu-chan's own. "But that still doesn't answer the question of  _why are you here?_ "

Surprisingly, there was quiet hostility in the last four words, and Fon carefully made sure his body language was open and relaxed – unconfrontational, because as young as she was, she was also a  _Hibari,_  and they tended to attack first, ask questions later.

(He would know – he was one himself.)

"I cannot wish a good New Year's to my own grandniece and nephew?" he said lightly instead, and as equally as carefully did not wince when the glare intensified. Her next two words did not make it any easier.

" _Why now?"_

There was a world of meaning behind those two words, in the selection of vocabulary to the inflection that she said them with, but Fon did not get a chance to reply as Kyouto stood up and walked out of the room as well, not quite in the manner of her brother but more quick-footed – as if she was stalking a target.

She left behind a Storm Arcobaleno, an heirloom tea set, and a concerned Lichi.

(oOo)

Family never visited. It was a rule, one that had never been broken until now. Even our parents didn't visit, only called over the phone, and that method of communication in and of itself was rare. The chances that we got a phone call from both of them at the same time and not over the course of their birthday were astronomical.

Add in the fact that  _our granduncle Fon_  visited today, the odds had to be impossible.

But it wasn't, because  _Fon had visited._  He was in our  _house._

(A vague part of my mind told me that it probably wasn't healthy that I was freaking out like this, but I told it to shut up.)

Why now? Why not when Kyouya and I had been younger, why not on our birthdays, on missed Christmas Eve's and Children's Day's? Why this New Year's? What made it so special that he felt he could afford to just saunter on in here like nothing had ever happened?

( _Like he hadn't abandoned us like the rest of the world had._ )

Somewhere in my thoughts I'd made my way to Kyouya's room, and I blinked in surprise for a moment, first wondering when I'd gotten here, then debating on asking something of my brother. Then I sighed and was preparing to move away when it slid open to reveal a glaring Kyouya. Well, that answered that.

With a stiff smile I carefully made my way past him and sank down onto the futon on one side of his room, my brother collapsing into a boneless heap next to me.

I ended up staring at the wall before drifting off to sleep sitting up.

(oOo)

To be completely honest with himself, Kyouya had hoped that when he woke up, this would all have been a very odd dream, even if meeting a lucrative relative who was  _not_  a herbivore had been a worthwhile use of his time. However, when he'd walked – he didn't shuffle, thank you very much, Kyouto! – to the kitchen at the smell of his sister cooking, the baby in the red kimono was hard to ignore. Especially with the white monkey sitting on the table and calmly picking away at a bowl of natto.

Without even glancing at his apparent granduncle Kyouya gave the monkey a quick scratch on the head before rummaging in the modern refrigerator that looked rather out of place in the traditional style of the house, Kyouto working around him as she prepared breakfast. She did hit him lightly over the head when he tried to sneak a hamburger patty out of the freezer, though.

"You can't have that for breakfast," she said, and reluctantly he sat down opposite from Fon with a glare at his sister, which she ignored. She occupied herself with setting down bowls of rice and miso soup before them, waving away the small Chinese baby's attempts to help, and gave Kyouya stern glare before he consented to his not-hamburger breakfast and started eating. With great dignity, of course – a Hibari couldn't be anything otherwise.

Silence filled the small dining room as each turned to their eating, and Kyouya looked outside as he chewed. It was snowing, the small white flakes raining down from the sky and drifting away on the wind before they could reach the white-covered ground. He wasn't surprised that it had snowed the night before; Namimori Shrine was at a higher altitude compared to the rest of the town, so of course they'd get snow. It was common sense.

(He hadn't understood why the herbivores in his old class before he and Kyouto had had a "talk" with the principal just  _didn't get it._ )

Their guest at the table set down his cup of tea with a small, muted click before he cleared his throat. "I understand that you do not wish me in your house, but—"

"Oh, that's the understatement of the  _year._ " Kyouto didn't thud her tea cup down onto the table, but it was a very near thing. Kyouya refrained from showing a visible reaction– instead, he waited to see where his sister would go with this. He'd never been one to talk much, anyway.

"How is my stay here a problem?" The smile on the baby's face was polite, if a bit confused, as if he really didn't know the answer to the question. "We are family, are we not?"

"Family that apparently only cares to visit on some special occasions whose significance we don't even  _know._ " His sister's words were as sharp as their guest's smile was bland, and Kyouya smirked slightly – a twitch of the lips, really – when Fon blinked, then stilled. His sister could be downright  _hostile_  towards some people.

"Ah, yes. I do regret that." He even sounded  _sincere_  about it, the weak baby-carnivore, and Kyouya scoffed. Kyouto in her seat snorted, before rising with her empty bowls to put them away in the sink for washing later. He followed not long after, and their granduncle was left to the table by himself. And the white-furred monkey, who'd spilled out of his sister's lap the moment she started to stand.

Kyouya was already halfway down the hallway when he heard his sister's parting remarks to leave this "Fon" at the table alone, no matter how much it grated on his nerves to just  _leave_  him there – "Regret won't do  _anything_  now. Good luck trying to use it."

Sometimes, he really appreciated Kyouto's eloquence with words. It saved him the effort and the hassle, anyway.

(oOo)

Just because we had the Storm Arcobaleno at our home didn't mean our duties as Namimori's guardians end. After that  _enlightening_  conversation, my brother dragged us out for a round of patrol. If Fon followed us or not I never knew – he was anything but a novice in the art of concealment, after all – but it didn't matter. Because it was on that patrol that Tetsuya had stirred up a hive of bees.

Not literally, although that could almost have been preferred compared to what we'd found instead.

It looked like a murder scene, what with the sheer amount of blood that seemed to be pouring out of Kyouya's unofficial-official second-in-command, the red dashed against the alley sidewalk. His back had been facing us when we'd first spotted him, and I crouched down and checked for a pulse on the artery in his neck. There was one, thankfully, but it was weak, and I stripped off my jacket, the two metal hanbo strapped to my forearms glinting in the afternoon light as I pressed the dark material onto where the blood was gushing the most.

Tetsuya hadn't even made a sound throughout all of that, and I bit down on my lip as I tried to clear his airway.

My brother wasn't exactly  _hovering,_  per say, at my back, but I could still feel his warm presence in stark contrast to the winter air. I answered his unspoken question. "He's probably critical, but he still has a pulse. We're going to need an ambulance."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kyouya's shoes walk away, crunching on the broken glass scattered around – there were blood flecks among them,  _smart Tetsu, using the alcohol bottles as weapons_  – as he flipped out his phone and dialed a number. I ignored the ensuing growl-argument he had with the phone, intent on trying not to let Kusakabe under my hands bleed out to death instead.

The ambulance couldn't exactly drive into the small alleyway, but they did roll in a collapsible gurney, and I finally left the life-saving to the professionals. They'd gotten here pretty fast. Kyouya must have pulled some weight with the Hibari name; I wouldn't be surprised. My brother wasn't exactly a squishy teddy bear underneath, but he did care about what few people he had close contact with. Tetsuya was one of them.

I felt myself reaching for one of my hanbo with one hand, my jacked soaked with Tetsu's blood in the other, and I forced my hands to relax.

"A friend of yours?"

I  _refused_  to flinch when our grand-uncle hopped down onto my shoulder, little feet digging into the meat and bone there for balance. I'd had worse scares before from  _Kyouya._  "You could say that."

I turned and followed my brother, who was intent on finishing our route for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be 10,000 words. I gave up on that, though, so you guys finally got a chapter.
> 
> **Wait for Dawn** is on the back-burner, though, with **Seiryū** and **Someday We'll Leave the Light On** taking priority. But I'm not giving up on this just yet! : 3
> 
> Please leave a review, and safe travels,
> 
> \- dktsubani

**Author's Note:**

> "Kyouto" means "mirror." It's a very rarely used name, but one that I think the very traditional headcanon!Hibari family would use.
> 
> A [hanbō](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanb%C5%8D) is a half-staff. It is traditionally 35 inches long, and can even beat a katana if used properly.
> 
> Yes, Kyouto's slightly off her rocker. But who wouldn't be, after dying in a train crash, floating in what virtually amounts to a black hole with only their thoughts, then the horrors of growing up again, but this time with my battle-hungry and insane headcanon!Hibari family?
> 
> If you think that Kyouya's being a bit OOC, again, there's a reason for that. Kyouto'll have a big "ah-hah!" moment later, so stick with me, here. I, personally, like this Kyouya - he's not so rough around the edges.
> 
> That two year timeskip? That and any future timeskips will be filled in later as flashbacks or in a sidestory.


End file.
